The Bells
by gingaloid
Summary: Will and Emma were ready to take on the world together. Then she ran and one year later, she's still running, looking for a sign. He's still waiting, hoping she'll come.


**A/N: OH MY GOSH IT'S BEEN OVER A YEAR SINCE I LAST UPDATED ANYTHING I BELIEVE! Well, here I am, bringing you a new story!(; I know I still have others to update, and I plan on getting to them at some point, but I have so many new ideas that I want to get out first, and this is just the first of many! It's a songfic, based on Lea Michele's song, _The Bells_. I'm considering doing another chapter to this, but I am not sure if anyone wants one, so if you do, let me know! R&R always greatly appreciated! Thanks -Tayma(:**

* * *

**The Bells**

_Everyday I get a little bit closer to the resolution that I am not yet bulletproof.  
Oh, the battle within rages on and on, The neighborhood seemed so small. The church on the corner has steps good for waiting. I should go in, but I'm tired of praying.  
And anyway…_

He walked down the street once more, leather bag slung over his shoulder. His shoulder was heavy with the weight of term papers from his Senior Year history students. Sometimes it frustrated him that he constantly assigned these kids papers, and then had to read all thirty plus in a timely manner, but it helped. It took his mind off of what was usually jogging through his brain; the sound of her feet as she ran; the look of love and panic in her face; the apology she muttered before he last saw her.

Reaching the church on the corner, Will Schuester looked up at the face of the building and heaved a heavy sigh. It had been months, at this point, since the realization that he wasn't bulletproof had crashed into him, pain like a shot to the heart and the stomach. She was nervous; he should have seen that. It was in her nature, at times, to let down her strong guard and let him in to see the vulnerable girl behind the mask of strength and perseverance. He ignored it; he was so wrapped up in himself and getting Glee club taken care of that he hadn't even thought of her. He just assumed she was okay. Usual jitters. Nothing to be concerned about.

And then Emma Pillsbury ran out of his life.

He sat down on the top of the steps, leaning against a statue of the crucifix, closing his eyes for a moment. _How long are you going to do this? _He asked himself that question repeatedly, every day. His heart torn between leaving, and coming back until he was so old that he would just slip into an eternal sleep on those granite steps. He knew the answer before he even asked himself the question; he'd stay until he couldn't anymore. Until the pain of reliving and hoping was so much that his heart gave out on him, until the hope that he held onto finally tasted so stale in his mouth that he would spit it out and look upon it with disgust. He'd wait there until then. Until that moment in time when everything is a lost cause and he accepts it.

The church bells rang and pulled him from his thoughts, startling him slightly.

_One of these days,_ Will thought, _one of these days, I'll go in. One of these days._

One of these days. He'd been saying that to himself for months. Maybe going inside would conquer his fear. Maybe going inside would answer his prayers. Maybe he'd find her inside. Maybe he'd find himself inside.

When he thought about it, Will found it hilarious that he even believed in prayers. He never did before Emma. He never understood having so much faith in someone or something that you would put all your eggs in one basket, throw it all up and say, 'I trust you to fix this.' At least, he never understood that until he met Emma. Until he _loved _Emma, and he felt Emma's love reciprocated. He still remembered the first time he ever saw her pray, knelt by their bed, tears on her face. Will laughed a little at the memory, her adorable explanation about acoustics in linoleum. That was the moment he believed in prayer; Will realized that if he had a single prayer in his life, it was that Emma would be his, and without even praying for it, God granted the wish to him.

But now? Well, now he was praying every day. Every night. _God, please send her back to me. _God wasn't listening, and if He was, He wasn't doing what Will wanted. Normally, Will would begin his daily grading sessions at the church with a prayer, a request to the God Almighty up above that he could have his angel back, but today, he was tired of asking for something that wasn't coming.

Today, he couldn't do it. Today, he couldn't wish anymore. Today it was just too damn hard.

-x-x-x-

_I can't stop the bells, Ringing since you've been gone. I thought I was moving on, but I think of nothing else. I can't break the spell. I still hear you every place. Can't forget what I saw in your face, I know every inch so well.  
I can't stop the bells. Can't stop the bells. Can't stop the bells.  
I can't stop the bells. Can't stop the bells._

Weekends were probably the worst. Will clung to memories of waking up beside Emma mid-morning on Saturdays and Sundays, her red hair splayed against the pillows. She always had this content look on her face when she was sleeping, like everything she'd ever wanted was granted to her, and even in her dreams, she just dreamed of her daily life because she wanted for nothing. He loved how beautiful she was when she slept. He loved when she finally woke up, wide amber eyes fluttering open and sparkling every time they registered Will's face looking back at her. There was so much love in her face, every time they looked at each other.

He tried to keep himself busy on the weekends, when he'd wake up and find that the past six months weren't a nightmare, but his reality. Moments when he would walk through the apartment and notice little things Emma had done to the place. The calendar from February with a meticulous heart around their wedding date still hung up above the phone in the kitchen. He didn't know why he didn't just take it down and burn it. That's what should happen. But he left it as hope, and he was masochistic enough to read it every so often, read inside the tiny box in the heart where Emma wrote, 'Mr. and Mrs. Will Schuester' instead of a big WEDDING DAY. She always told him she didn't care so much about the wedding, so long as at the end of the day, she'd have his last name forever. She always seemed so happy when she talked about that, longing filled her being, and want was written all over her face.

After his morning inside with breakfast and getting ready, Will would leave the apartment, going on leisurely walks around town. He told himself every time that he was going to just enjoy the day, enjoy the town, but he knew he was looking for her. He saw her face everywhere, his eyes would widen at a flash of red hair. He swore he heard her in the giggles of people passing him on the street, the gentle cough of a girl reading on a park bench, the sweet voice of a girl ordering a soy latte from the coffee cart in the park. At least those were the good memories.

It was when he was passed by a runner that his head would once again be filled with the sound of white heels on church floor, getting quieter as they moved away from him. It was those moments when Emma's face filled his vision, the look on her face torn between love and fear, her eyes questioning whether or not she was making the right decision in marrying him. Her eyes questioning whether or not she still knew him.

Will knew Emma. He knew everything about her, and it was in that moment, that he read her expression, and he would never forget how she looked when she swallowed and muttered quietly, "I'm sorry, but I can't," before turning and running, her veil fluttering off behind her, her long, ginger locks bouncing behind her as she ran out of the church. Gasps from the congregation filled his ears, Finn's hand on his shoulder as he yelled, "Mister Schue, go get her! Mister Schue, what are you doing?!"

The church bells went off, signaling noon. They'd planned the ceremony so they would chime during their first kiss as husband and wife. But she wasn't his wife, and no matter how much people were yelling at him to follow her, he stood there, frozen to the spot at the alter. Jilted.

He'd seen the look in her face.

There was no running after her.

-x-x-x-

_And it doesn't even matter what's going on. The sound in my head is constant, and I can't turn it off. Oh, and patience is hard when you just don't know where all the waiting is taking you.  
The church on the corner, torn down in December. That kiss in the doorway, I still won't surrender.  
And anyway…_

Emma woke up every morning with a memory of what she did. She would go to sleep and tell herself that the next day, it would be different. The next day, she'd have no memory of his handsome face. She wouldn't remember the glimmer of pain in his eyes when the words, "I'm sorry" left her lips, instead of "I do." The next day, she would wake up and she would find Will staring at her with love written on his face as her eyes fluttered open. Every night, she went to bed with hope, and every morning, she woke up with disappointment.

In leaving Will, Emma also left Lima. She cashed in all of her vacation days, and then tendered her resignation after that point. She moved into the old condo that Carl had left her in the annulment, and she applied to a temporary teaching position in Columbus. It sucked driving back and forth between Lima and Columbus on a daily basis, but she couldn't show her face at McKinley ever again. Will would look at her with sad, puppy eyes. The Glee kids would glare at her through the glass wall. Finn would try to talk her into talking with Will. Sue would start out a sarcastic comment with "Erma" and end with something to the effect of her leaving Will Schuester meant that she could no longer trim his Brillo-pad hair to use when she ran out of cleaning product. She couldn't do it.

It was already bad enough that no matter what she did or where she was, she still flashed back to leaving Will at the altar. She'd been so unsure of him, of knowing him anymore. He just waltzed back into town after weeks away, and she didn't know him anymore. He brushed her off, he wouldn't help her plan the wedding. He was so wrapped up in Glee Club, and usually, Emma applauded his dedication, but the one time she needed him, everything was 'fine' and nothing was perfect. She needed perfect, and it wasn't perfect, and she knew in her heart that it would bother her.

So she ran.

There were moments where she would fall asleep and hear voices screaming, "Go after her!" and then wake up out of breath, panicking because he never came. He never even tried. Emma knew that logically, it was her job to go to him, but she still felt a pang of loss every time she remembered the fact that he didn't even try to chase her. He just let her go.

If regret was a dull throb, causing your brain to hum and your existence to feel numb, then Emma was consumed.

She saw him every day, and he didn't even know it. Her condo was located just blocks from the very church where they were to be married; the church from which she ran. She drove past it every day on her way into and out of Lima, and every day, there was Will. He sat against the Crucifix. Grading papers. Sometimes his head was back and Emma was sure he was praying. It was in those moments where Emma's brain was filled with each prayer she never actually heard, but imagined falling from Will's lips.

He never came after her, but he waited for her. Day in and day out. It was almost a year since that very day she left him at this point, and the church was torn down inside due to relocating at a new place across town. And still, he waited. He sat outside the dilapidated and empty church, grading papers. No doubt hoping that she was going to walk back into his life once more.

And she wanted to. God, did she want to. But she was waiting for a sign for a word from God to tell her it was okay. To tell her where she was going after all of this waiting, and hoping and praying. She was incessantly praying, trying to be patient as she begged God for a sign. Anything that would tell her to go park her damn car, get out of it, and walk up to him.

Kiss him like the day they found the church for their venue. Admiring the high ceilinged structure, the clear, open, echo-y, beautiful building. Emma remembered going to venue after venue with him before he'd left for his conference. One of them would like a place, and the other wouldn't feel it, but it was in that church, in the happy and warm building, that they both smiled, and Emma asked, "Do you think you could marry me here?" and Will nodded, leaning in to kiss her, his hand gripping her waist firmly, his other hand lightly grazing her cheek. "I think I could marry you here," he'd whispered against her lips before kissing her firmly once more.

_Please, God. Just a sign._, Emma thought to herself. _To strike up a conversation. To apologize. Tell him I love him. To kiss him._

_Anything_.

-x-x-x-

_I can't stop the bells, Ringing since you've been gone. I thought I was moving on, but I think of nothing else. I can't break the spell. I still hear you every place. You don't know what you left in your wake._

_I guess I'm not so well._

Emma was curled up in her dark bedroom, just about to fall asleep when she heard them; the bells from the church were chiming. She lived so close that if everything was quiet, she could hear them every hour on the hour. She flopped over onto her back with a sigh, counting off each chime. It was midnight. She opened her eyes wide and stared up at her empty ceiling, wanting to rip her brain out.

The first few months after Emma left Will at the church, she was strong. Sure, she was hurt at what she'd done, and she wished more than anything that he had chased after her, but for those first few months, she was great. She was fine. She was moving on. At least she believed that she was. And then she started noticing Will waiting for her at the church, every single day. Without fail. No matter the weather. It was a strange feeling, seeing him there, hoping and hoping that she would go to him.

After the third week of seeing him sitting there at the church, Emma started to think more and more about what she did, and why she'd done it. It was almost all that she thought about every night. Before the hoping for the next morning, before the wishing that the next morning she wouldn't care, she thought about why she ran out of the church.

When Will was away, Emma missed him more than anything in the world. Their apartment was colder without him there. Their bed wasn't as comfortable. She was able to function without him perfectly fine, but at the end of the day, after another lonely dinner in front of the television, Emma always realized how much she enjoyed having him with her. How much she enjoyed hearing him padding through the apartment, humming as he did the laundry, whistling while he checked his email, singing in the shower. They were all these pleasant noises that filled her ears and her life and made her feel so happy.

At the time of Will's departure, Emma was struggling a little bit. It was a difficult decision, letting him leave her for weeks so close to the wedding, and she felt anxiety hanging over her every second of every day. There was still so much to do and so little time. Sometimes the weight of everything was so heavy on her chest that it was hard to breathe, and the room started spinning imagining the massive to do list hanging in her office, on the bedroom wall, and in the kitchen.

There were ample moments when Will was preparing to leave that Emma tried to tell him how she was feeling. How she feared that everything wouldn't be perfect, that she would be struggling to get everything done in time. What if he didn't like something? What if there was a snag? What if she forgot something important?

Every time, she expressed her feelings.

Every time, he told her she'd be fine, that she worried too much, and that she should just try not to think about it too much.

Either he didn't see it, or he ignored it, but Emma was starting to crack and crumble under the pressure.

She remembered the feeling of pressure weighing on her the entire time he was away, and upon his return home, she'd initially hoped for relief, but that wasn't the case. He was wrapped up in Glee, trying to get them ready; planning new numbers and working with them extra over time so they could be the best they could possibly be.

Emma was quickly crumbling in front of his eyes, and he just kept telling her, 'Later, Em. Promise.'

Later never came, and when it did, it was too late. She walked down the aisle broken, confused about the man who returned from the conference. He wasn't the Will that she'd fallen in love with; he wasn't the Will that she knew anymore. He wasn't focused on their relationship as much, and she honestly couldn't tell if she knew him well enough anymore. Was it that easy to fall out of sync with the person you knew and loved the most?

It was at the altar, after repeating her vows, that Emma realized she couldn't do it. She couldn't swear to love this man in sickness and in health, in pain and in joy, through the good and the bad, when she wasn't even sure who he was anymore. How could she stick by him through it all if she wasn't even sure they knew each other since he'd gotten back?

_Do you take this man? I'm sorry, but I can't._

She'd only seen the look in his eyes for a glimmer of a second, the pain that he was trying to conceal as she turned on her heel and ran. Her veil flew off, but she abandoned it, running out of the church, voices yelling behind her to Will that he needed to run after her. Sounds of confusion.

Then she was outside in the church parking lot and all she could hear was the roaring of her blood in her head and her breathing.

Then the church bells chimed; they should have been kissing. Instead she was running.

She got into her car and drove away, tears building in her eyes. Will had no idea what he'd done to her in being so dismissive, or if he did, he didn't acknowledge it.

Laid back in bed, thinking over those moment, swallowing hard into the darkness and saying another prayer up to God up above, asking him for a sign.

"God," she spoke out loud, "I'm tired of pretending. Maybe I'm not as well as I pretend to be."

-x-x-x-

_If you could feel what I feel for a moment  
Just see what I see  
And you know that I won't find peace  
Until you'll come back to me_

It was another afternoon in front of the empty, crumbling church. It was spring break for the students, faculty, and staff of William McKinley High School, which meant Will was spending all day at the church, pathetically waiting for a woman who wasn't coming; who hadn't come in over a year.

For the first time in over a year, Will felt it. He felt the hope drain away. He tasted hope so stale in his mouth that he wanted to spit it out and glare at it in disgust. He saw himself for the first time as a sentimental idiot, who was wasting his life waiting for someone who would never come.

He knew that he couldn't do this anymore. He knew that he wouldn't find happiness until Emma came back, but he also knew that he couldn't just wait around for her anymore, when clearly she wasn't coming. She knew what she needed to do, she just…spent a year making it clear that she wasn't going to.

Will sighed and stood up, pulling from his pocket the little leather box with Emma's wedding band in it. Long ago, he'd written a note in it that said, "Come Back to Me," as if putting it into his own Pandora's Box. Maybe one day the universe would open up and let the message out to her, but until then, he couldn't do this anymore. He pressed a kiss to the box and set it on the steps of the church, sighing before turning and heading down the steps to walk away.

-x-x-x-

_Oh, I thought I was moving on  
But I think of nothing else  
I can't stop the bells  
I still hear you every place  
Can't forget what I saw in your face  
I know every inch so well_

Emma was walking through town on her first day of spring break; the first time she allowed herself a true break in over a year. She started to wander, and just let her feet carry her wherever they were going to carry her, her eyes on the cement as she moved absentmindedly.

After a while, Emma looked up and sighed, realizing where her subconscious was taking her. To that damn church. It made sense; when you leave your unconscious to do the work, you're bound to go the place that you tried to suppress. She ran her hand through her hair and slowed down as she turned towards the church.

Even if the church was empty, it still felt disrespectful to be near the building while listening to music. Part of the church's majesty was experiencing it with no other external influences. Even if it could only be experienced from the outside anymore.

And then she heard it.

"G'bye, Em."

Her heart stopped and then started beating rapidly, thinking she was hearing things until she looked up and saw Will walking away from her. Her eyes widened; she forgot that he'd probably be there since there was no school.

She walked quietly behind him, unsure if she should say something or not. Was this her sign?

Stopping in front of the church, Emma sighed and turned toward it, looking up at the front of it and then sighing. As she looked down, her eyes caught sight of a familiar box, and she had a hard time swallowing as she reached forward and picked it up. Biting her lip, she opened it, curious as to whether the ring was inside of it.

It was. And inside was a note.

_Come Back to Me._

That was it. That was her sign.

Emma crossed herself quickly and then whipped around, standing and watching the curly-haired man retreating from her.

"Will!" She called out, before she could stop herself, taking a deep breath when he turned around.

"E-Emma?"

He started walking towards her and Emma saw it again. The pain on his face. The flicker of hurt and disappointment in Will's eyes before she ran away. Watching him move towards her, the urge to run again was strong, but she suppressed it, swallowing hard.

Will stopped just two feet from her and glanced down, seeing the ring box in one of Emma's hands and the note in the other.

Finally their eyes met as the bells started chiming, signaling noon – her eyes guilty and his accusing; his hurting and hers apologetic. Both glad to see one another.

"Hi," Will breathed out.

"Hi."

_I can't stop the bells  
Can't stop the bells  
Can't stop the bells  
I can't stop the bells  
Can't stop the bells, oh_

* * *

**_Disclaimer: I do not own GLEE, Emma, Will, or The Bells. They are all property of FOX, RIB, and/or Lea Michele. Thank you again for reading!_**


End file.
